Tuesday, April 5, 2011

Ground Control to Major Tongue

Down through the years countless lyrics to pop songs have been misconstrued by listeners – two classic examples being Creedence Clearwater Revival’s Bad Moon Rising (There’s a bathroom on the right), and Purple Haze by Jimi Hendrix (Excuse me while I kiss this guy). Go ahead – sing them out loud – nobody’s listening! (See player below.)

My own misconstruing (Is that even a word?) of lyrics started as a child of six or seven. I remember listening to my brother’s copy of The Beatles’ single, I Saw Her Standing There, and mistaking the line “and the way she looked was way beyond compare” as “and the way she looked was wavy on her hair.” Hearing me singing these lyrics out loud, my always compassionate older brother began to ridicule me mercilessly, repeatedly referring to me as a mentally challenged individual, although he didn’t use that term.

As a teenager I used to spend hours and hours listening to records, writing down the words to songs I liked, and then figuring out the chords so I could play the songs on my guitar. (Okay, so I was a lonely kid!) I can’t begin to count the number of times I heard a song and was unable to discern the lyrics. But I do remember trying to understand the words to David Bowie's Space Oddity and coming up with the line “Ground control to Major Tongue” instead of “Major Tom.” And I remember hearing the words to Steppenwolf’s Born to be Wild and thinking the line was “Ah that’s funky lightening; every little thunder” instead of “I like smoke and lightning; heavy metal thunder.”

Now, to be honest, I don’t think substituting the words “every little thunder” for “heavy metal thunder” was all that big of a deal. But substituting “Major Tongue” for “Major Tom,” well, that’s a bit of a stretch, don’t ya think? Not to mention the fact that I’m pretty sure Major Tom wouldn’t be too thrilled with the new nickname!

I’m not sure what my favorite mistaken lyric is. Frankly, I’m still trying to figure out what the “warm smell of cold leaked gas” is that The Eagles are singing about in Hotel California.

What’s your favorite misconstrued lyric?

Sunday, March 27, 2011

Oz Never Did Give Nothing!

My daughter recently appeared in her high school’s production of The Wizard of Oz. She played the part of one of the trees in the forest, and, after hurling some of her fruit at Dorothy and the others, delivered with great enthusiasm the classic line, “How do you like dem apples?”

The show was absolutely wonderful, taking me back to my childhood and allowing me to recall the excitement of watching the movie version every year on television. Of course, it also brought back memories of being tormented in my dreams for weeks afterward by startling and vivid images of flying monkeys and cackling witches. I’ll get you my pretty! And your little dog, too!

The show also got me thinking about the song Tin Man by America (see player below), which spent several weeks on the Billboard Pop charts back in November of 1974. The song’s title and lyrics make reference to the role of the Tin Man – one of the more colorful, albeit squeaky, characters in L. Frank Baum’s novel, The Wonderful Wizard of Oz.

The chorus to America’s song, Tin Man, includes the grammatically confusing lyric, “Oz never did give nothing to the Tin Man that he didn’t already have.” Of course, the phrase “Oz never did give nothing” is an example of a double negative, suggesting Oz really did give something to the Tin Man. And, I can follow that.

But here’s where I get confused: When you add the words “that he didn’t already have” to the phrase “Oz never did give nothing,” you create, in effect, a triple negative (never-nothing-didn’t), which means even though the Tin Man already had something, and Oz gave him nothing (which was really something), it didn't really matter because he didn’t need it given to him anyway since he already had it in the first place! Now, is it just me, or is this really – and I mean REALLY – confusing? After all, a double negative is confusing enough, but a triple negative, well that’s just about three times more complicated than my little pea-sized brain can handle!

Maybe I'm making way too much of this. I mean, after all, all the Tin Man really wanted was an oil can, right? Or was it a heart?

Saturday, February 5, 2011

Gee, I Think You're Swell!

If the Jeopardy category were Worst Lyrics of All Time, The Turtles' 1968 hit, Elenore, would be right up there at the top of the list. (See player below.) Consider the following:

I really think you're groovy. Let's go out to a movie.
What do you say, now, Elenore, can we?
They'll turn the lights way down low.
Maybe we won't watch the show.
I think I love you, Elenore, love me.

But wait, there’s more!

Elenore, gee I think you're swell, and you really do me well.
You're my pride and joy, et cetera.
Elenore, can I take the time, to ask you to speak your mind.
Tell me that you love me better.

Touching, eh?

Up until recently, every time I heard the song Elenore I wondered why in the world anyone would release a song with such lame lyrics. First of all, rhyming the words “groovy” and “movie” is about as cheesy as you can get. Second, even in the 60s no one actually used the word “swell” -- that is unless they were six years old and wore a beanie! Third, I can’t help but think the phrase “do me well” probably raised more than its fair share of eyebrows. (But hey,maybe that’s just me!) And fourth, no other song in pop history has ever used the phrase et cetera.

There’s an interesting backstory to the words, however. They were written as the band’s reaction to their record company’s request for a follow up song to their first hit, Happy Together (1967). In order to piggy back on the success of that hit, the executives at White Whale wanted the band to produce a follow up song with a similar, schlocky pop sound and feel.

The Turtles, however, wanted to move forward with more creative musical efforts, and had absolutely no desire to produce yet another shallow, upbeat pop tune. So they they wrote the song Elenore as a parody of Happy Together, thinking it would never be taken seriously. In other words, the song was supposed to be a joke! A joke that apparently no one (other than the band) caught on to, because the song went to all the way to No. 6 on the Billboard charts!

In 1969 The Turtles released their final top ten hit, You Showed Me, which also made it to No. 6 on the charts. Now that was a swell song!

Monday, December 6, 2010

Merry Christmas, My Friend!

If I mention the band The Royal Guardsmen, what’s the first song that pops into your head? Well, okay, maybe it would be the second song to pop into your head, but, still, my guess is one of the first two would be Snoopy’s Christmas (see player below), recorded in 1967 on the Laurie record label – the same label, by the way, which brought us hits by the likes of Dion and the Belmonts, The Chiffons, and – make sure you’re sitting down – yes, that’s right, Bobby Goldsboro!

The song, Snoopy’s Christmas, was a follow up to the group’s debut hit, Snoopy vs. the Red Baron (which might have been the first song to pop into your head!), and, like its predecessor, Snoopy’s Christmas tells the story of a WWI air battle between everybody’s favorite beagle, Snoopy, and his old nemesis, the Red Baron – who for some reason is now used to promote frozen pizza!

Anyway, unlike the first tune, this song has a seasonally appropriate happy ending when, after being inspired by the sound of Christmas bells from the town below, the Red Baron adopts a spirit of peace, calls a halt to the fighting, and offers Snoopy a holiday truce – and perhaps a slice of pizza, as well! The song’s chorus rings forth with seasonal words of hope and goodwill:

Christmas bells, oh Christmas bells, ringing through the land
Bringing peace to all the world and goodwill to man.

As a kid, I owned both The Royal Guardsmen’s hit singles. (You did, too, right?) And, as a drummer, I remember thinking that the march-like drum cadence used on both songs was pretty cool – a rhythmic style, which (for some unknown reason) wouldn’t make it back into pop music until 1974 with the Bo Donaldson and the Heywoods’ hit Billy, Don’t be a Hero! But we can discuss the merits of that song another time…

Merry Christmas!

Thursday, October 7, 2010

Shannon is gone...

Back in the spring of 1976 I started collecting 45 rpm records. I had this great idea that if I started my collection by going out and buying the current top ten singles, and then each week purchased just the new additions to the top ten, in several years (for just a few dollars each week, mind you!) I’d amass an amazing record collection of top pop hits. Well, that plan – great as it was – lasted about a year before I sort of lost interest in the project. (Can you say ADHD?)  Cool idea, though, eh?

Now, almost 35 years later, I’m sad to say I have absolutely no idea what became of that collection, which included classics like Vicki Sue Robinson’s Turn the Beat Around, Gary Wright’s Dream Weaver, and Dr. Hook’s A Little Bit More. (Remember the lyrics to that song? “When you think I’ve loved you all I can – I’m gonna love you a little bit more.” Nice.)

Anyway, one of the more interesting records to hit the charts that year was a song called Shannon (see player below), written and performed by singer-songwriter Henry Gross – and a pretty good tune actually, although, along with tunes like Gilbert O’Sullivan’s Alone Again, Naturally and Eric Carmen’s All By Myself, it is highly ranked on my list of The Most Depressing Songs of the 70s!

Gross says he was inspired to write the song after hearing that a friend’s pet dog had been hit by a car and killed. (The friend was Carl Wilson of the Beach Boys, btw.) The dog’s name was Shannon, which coincidentally was also the name of Gross’s dog. So moved by the coincidence was Gross, that he sat down with his guitar and in minutes wrote the song Shannon, a soft, rock ballad lamenting the passing of a cherished pet, who the singer heard  was “drifting out to sea.” Nice thought.

Now I have to admit that back in 1976, when I first heard the song, it kind of creeped me out, because at the time I didn’t know it was about a dog – I thought it was about the singer’s little sister! (How was I supposed to know?) You can imagine just how horrified I was every time I heard  the lyrics

Shannon is gone. I heard she’s drifting out to sea.
She always loved to swim away.
Maybe she’ll find an island with a shady tree,
Just like the one in our back yard.

What a relief to find out, albeit years later, that the song was really about a dog. Still sad, but not quite so creepy!

Wednesday, September 15, 2010

Who's Ron Dante?

Back in 1969 when I was in the seventh grade, the song Tracy by The Cufflinks topped out at number 10 on the Billboard charts. The song was a one-hit wonder – a fluffy, bouncy, bubble-gummy kind of tune that really isn't worth remembering.

But I remember it well because, at the time, one of my best friends had a crush on a classmate named Tracy. And I (good friend that I was) took every opportunity to chastise him by singing at the top of my lungs the words to the song every time we passed in the hallway at school.

Tracy, when I'm with you, somethin' you do bounces me off the ceiling.
Tracy, day after day, when you're this way, I get a lovin' feelin'.

Yes, that’s right, tough guy that I was, I harassed him by singing at him! – which, to be honest, is about as close as I ever came to anything even remotely resembling bullying behavior. Shocking, but true!

Ron Dante
Now, as far as the song is concerned, the truth of the matter is that the band, The Cufflinks, never really existed – not as an actual band, anyway. The song featured the vocal work of a session singer named Ron Dante, who multi-tracked his own voice for both the lead and background vocals, while being backed instrumentally by a handful of studio musicians. And, as if that’s not exciting enough (I really do need to get a life!), what’s really cool is that back in the spring of 1969, not only did Ron Dante have a top ten hit with the song Tracy, but, at the same time, was also responsible for all the vocals on the song currently at the top of the charts, Sugar, Sugar, by the Archies – yet another group that didn’t really exist!

I think that’s pretty cool: two concurrent top ten songs, credited to two different bands, neither of which really existed, sung by the same singer who, by the way, didn’t get any credit on either recording. I’m not sure, but I think that’s got to be some sort of record! (Nice play on words!)

To his credit, as a studio singer Dante sang on hundreds of records and commercial jingles, and was an equally prolific record producer, working with the likes of Barry Manilow, Cher and John Denver. Way to go, Ron!

Friday, August 13, 2010

Gotta Love Weird Al Yankovic

My daughters recently had me watch on YouTube an accordion parody of Ke$ha’s Tik Tok, after which I felt compelled (out of my own need to show them how cool I am!) to share with them a video version of Weird Al Yankovic’s My Bologna. (See player below.) The song – a parody of the Knack’s My Sharona – was one of Weird Al’s early fores into the pop song parody world, of which he has, of course, become king. My daughters enjoyed it, by the way, and were particularly intrigued (translation: embarrassed) when I told them that in my mid-20s, I bore an uncanny resemblance to Weird Al. (I really did!)

Listening to My Bologna brought back memories of Sunday evenings during my sophomore year in college, when my roommate and I had a standing date with The Dr. Demento Show, a nationally syndicated radio program, broadcast locally in Philadelphia on WYSP. Although he wasn’t really a doctor (and, in fact, Demento was not his real name – surprise, surprise! – it was actually Barret Eugene Hanson), Demento was an authority on obscure and novel songs, which were featured weekly on his show.

One of Dr. Demento's claims to fame is that he can be credited with discovering Weird Al Yankovic, who in the mid-seventies began sending Demento home-made tapes of his song parodies, which at that time featured Weird Al singing the lead vocal while accompanying himself on the accordion. The result was an amazingly lame, but absolutely hilarious, song parody style, a prime example of which can be heard on Yankovic’s My Bologna, produced in 1979.

For the next 30 years, Weird Al produced numerous song parodies/videos, including hits like Eat It, Another One Rides the Bus and Amish Paradise, all of which are impeccably produced, and single out Weird Al as the master of his genre.

Of course, as good as Weird Al is, I still have a warm spot in my heart for the music of an earlier song parodist, Allan Sherman (Hello Mudda, Hello Fadduh). I grew up listening to his record albums, and to this day can sing by heart the words to many of his songs. But more on Allan Sherman another time…. Do you remember him?